


Crossings, and Too Many Familiar Faces

by morelenmir



Category: Sanctuary (TV), Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Misunderstandings, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-12
Updated: 2010-06-12
Packaged: 2020-11-07 23:49:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20825846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morelenmir/pseuds/morelenmir
Summary: Evan Lorne makes a mistake and finds himself facing an angry Helen Magnus.





	Crossings, and Too Many Familiar Faces

“Ladon? Ladon Radim?”

The tone was surprised, shocked even, and it was the intensity of the query that drew Henry’s eyes up from the tablet clasped in his hand. A brown-haired man about as tall—or rather, short—as Henry was standing frozen on the edge of the street, jaw lax and eyes widened in a classic representation of a flabbergasted being. The only issue was that the stranger was looking directly at him and his expression was rapidly changing to fury. Henry quickly tried to correct the other man.

“Ah, no? My name’s--”

The slightly older man suddenly lunged forward, grabbing Henry’s right arm in a deadening grip, and dragged him from the unfortunately not crowded sidewalk into the mouth of an alley. “Shut up,” he hissed vehemently, his eyes dark and fixed on Henry’s own very wide eyes. “How did you get here? How did you even know how to…” He shook his head, never removing his gaze from the pinned man’s face.

“Look, buddy,” Henry gasped, “I’ve never seen you before in my life. I live in New York an' my name’s Henry, not Laban.”

In response, Angry Strange Guy flattened Henry’s windpipe with his right forearm. Over his muted gurgles, he ground out, “Nice try, Ladon. Now tell me: how did you get out of Pegasus?”

“What is that, a code name?” Not only was Henry completely befuddled, freaked out, and totally without backup, but the guy was nuts. Oh, and leaning on his throat. “Agk!”

“I can’t believe this. First leave I get and a Genii lands in my lap in New York City of all damn places!”

“Gwuh?”

He was on a roll, ranting without removing his altogether too heavy arm. “I coulda gone with John to California, I coulda gone to my folks’, but no! I choose to hit the Big Apple and _Ladon Radim_ is walking around.” He threw his left hand up, briefly speechless. Henry was just happy to have circulation restored to his tingling right arm.

The stranger seemed to come to an abrupt decision and took his forearm away from the job of slowly crushing Henry’s windpipe. “Come on.”

“Where we going?” he gargled, poking his throat tentatively. “Ouch, you moron.”

The other man snorted harshly and spun Henry in front of him. “Move.” Still clutching his tablet, he led the way farther into the alley. He heard the man behind him unzipping his black jacket and chanced a glance over his shoulder.

His blood froze in his veins and he stumbled. _Shoulder-holstered standard M9, black, well-used, comfortable fit in his grip_, his mind rambled. As they stepped past an unsurprisingly foul Dumpster, Henry found a hand between his shoulder blades and a closely following shove that sent him none-too-gently against the near wall. He flipped, putting his back to the musty brick façade to keep his eye on his assailant.

“What is it you want, buddy?” Henry tried again. “Do you want my money? Admittedly I don’t have much on hand, but I’ll give you the tablet too…”

“Why do you even pretend to fit in?” He shook his head incredulously, “Why try?” With a well-oiled gesture the firearm was suddenly staring Henry in the eye, who in turn tried to swallow very quietly. “I can’t believe this,” the stranger muttered and tugged a cell phone out of the back pocket of his jeans. He dialed from memory while keeping Henry still with the force of his icy gaze and the gun raised in a perfectly steady hand

“Major Evan Lorne, 24-5-296,” he identified tersely, “put me through to Colonel Caldwell.”

Henry’s mind spun, trying to lace things together. _Military, uses a type of code or identifier, slightly paranoid, maybe a spook?_

“What branch?”

The man glared and didn’t answer, continuing to speak into the phone. “Sir, found a bit of a curiosity and requesting extraction. Yes, all clear.”

“Whoa, whoa there buddy. Who’s extracting?” His ‘time to worry about it’ level was spiking more than dangerously high. At this point he was expecting gun-wielding people in suits and uniforms to pop out of the actual walls.

“Henry?”

Oh thank god.

The Major tensed and twitched smoothly aside, angling so he could see both Henry and the newcomer. When he caught sight of the person who’d called out, his blue eyes tightened in puzzlement.

“Colonel Carter?” he said cautiously.

This was nine ways of confusing and Henry hadn’t made it to the coffee shop yet. “Helen!” he answered, attempting to not sound too relieved as he popped his head up from his side of the Dumpster. He could see the _HELP_ message sent from his tablet displayed on her phone screen, held in her hand.

“Helen?”

Henry didn’t pity the muddled Major Lorne. “Doctor Helen Magnus,” he clarified and deepened the officer’s confusion. The raven-haired woman in question sailed down the alleyway in her familiar powerful stride, and, to Henry’s relief, was accompanied by the preternaturally tall John, clad in his customary trenchcoat.

“Is there a problem here, sir?” the Englishwoman said crisply.

The Major’s lower jaw threatened to travel all the way south. “Ah…” She raised an elegant eyebrow and the officer found himself backpedaling as he concealed his weapon and Henry scuttled around the putrid bin to his friends’ company. Slowly Major Lorne lifted his cell. “Ah, sir? Disregard that request.” He slid the silenced phone into its pocket and faced the trio.

An awkward pause hung between the odd collection of people before it was broken by Dr. Magnus’s soft demand, thinly veiled as a question. “What is it you wanted with Henry, if I may ask?”

Henry enjoyed the panicked look on the other man’s face. “I, ah…it was a case of mistaken identity.”

“Yeah, an identity that had me against a wall at gunpoint?” he tossed in.

She stiffened, steel in her eyes. The hapless Major held up his empty hands pleadingly. “Very mistaken.” Then he noticed—apparently for the first time and probably attracted by the blinding sun glare bouncing off the bald head—John, their in-the-flesh Jack the Ripper. “Your name is _not_ Halling, right?”

“No,” was all the taciturn Englishman had to say in his deep voice.

Flustered, Major Lorne glanced from face to face. “Oh boy,” he sighed, burying his head briefly in his hands. “This is creepy. I am so sorry.”

“You should be. Threatening one of my employees with a firearm is not only distasteful, but quite detrimental to your continued health.”

He cursed softly, and then excused himself to the lady present out of habit. “Ma’am, I’m Major Lorne, U.S. Air Force. I mistook him--”

“His name is Henry,” he interjected, crossing his arms and glaring at the Major.

“--Henry for someone who should definitely not be on…on his own out here. I apologize for treating you so, ah, harshly,” he nodded to Henry, looking apologetic and faintly green. “And ma’am, you strongly resemble a commanding officer and your friend also looks like someone I know. Uh. Sorry again.”

Dr. Magnus nodded archly. “I pray for future’s sakes you don’t make the same unfortunate mistake, particularly not with one of my people.”

“And you’re just lucky I hadn’t had my coffee yet, pal,” Henry grinned. Now that the fright of the unexpected moment had passed, he was feeling more like his snarky brilliant self.

“I’ll treat you to it, if you don’t mind,” his supposed mugger offered.

Surprised, Henry couldn’t stop his eyebrows from traveling in the direction of his hairline. “Uh…you know what, sure.” Catching Helen’s curiosity—and John’s, but he could never really tell with that guy—he added, “Never turn down free coffee.”

The Major smiled. “Thanks. And you won’t believe how sorry I am--”

“Yeah, yeah, subject closed, unpleasant encounter over,” he waved his hand dismissively. “Coffee haven this way.” Henry, this time of his own free will, walked up the alley, leading the other man past the dumbfounded Doctor and companion.

The two Brits turned to each other, eyebrows pushing for the sky, as they overheard Henry ask, “You wouldn’t have shot me, would you?”

“No. Well, only if you tried to break, and then only in the leg.”

Henry’s sputtering faded around the corner.

**Author's Note:**

> Written uhhh a decade or so ago. Turns out I still adore Lorne, that sweet little guy, and I'm still terrifically queer and in love with Sam Carter and Helen Magnus.
> 
> Drop a comment below, or poke at me on [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/morelenmir) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/morelenmir).


End file.
